The square was packed with people.
The refugees stood, their tattered clothes fluttering slightly in the wind, revealing gaunt frames and purplish skin underneath.
Having just experienced a life-or-death crisis, many of them hadn't fully processed what had happened but their eyes had changed.
When Haruki and his companions first arrived at Nibi no Utsu, the refugees huddled against the walls had empty eyes. Nothing could be reflected in their pupils. They were deeply huddled, indifferent to the aroma of food wafting from the shops. It wasn't indifference. Rather, they knew their place.
They didn't dare to look, or even to smell. Under prolonged oppression, they had grown accustomed to restraining themselves.
Haruki treated the injured ninja and samurai one by one.
The ninja and samurai watched their wounds heal quickly, their eyes filled with an indescribable emotion. The emotion wasn't just from the healing of their wounds. More importantly, after being injured, they had companions who cared, worried, and treated their injuries.
Unlike before, when they could only silently lick their wounds, afraid of being discovered and losing the chance to take on missions.
[Ding!]
[System detected Ninja A's Gratitude Value +1000.]
[Ding!]
[System detected Ninja B's Gratitude Value +1000.]
[Ding!]
[System detected Ninja C's Gratitude Value +1000.]
...
[A total of 13,000 Gratitude Value has been collectedm Your Gratitude Curse growth value has risen to 27%.]
Haruki only withdrew his hands after everyone's wounds had healed. He turned and looked at the refugees behind him. He stretched out his hand, pointing to a whole street of shops opposite.
"You have endured for too long. Now, rush in and rescue your lost companions."
"Tie up those who oppressed you and bring them out to face judgment."
"Now, they no longer have ninja to protect them, but you have countless like-minded companions standing by your side."
"A happy life is earned with your own hands!"
"Go!"
"Go and reclaim all the rights you were born to enjoy!"
"..."
Haruki's voice echoed over the square.
The refugees stood stunned, guttural sounds of pain escaping their throats. They stared intently at the shops opposite.
Could they really do it?
Could they truly achieve it?
The refugees gulped hard.
"Mommy... Mommy was taken by them!"
"I'm going to bring Mommy back!"
"I want Mommy!"
In the crowd, a little girl let out a piercing wail.
She pushed through the crowd, her bare feet covered in scabs and blisters. She ran desperately across the ground, sprinting towards the shops opposite, her tears trailing a watery streak in the air.
One, two, three, four, five... countless.
More and more refugees ran towards the shops opposite.
Their eyes were wide with fury, their faces and necks flushed crimson, veins bulging, yet their eyes shimmered with tears of pain and anger. They called out different names.
The owners of these names had either turned into withered skeleton, or had disappeared behind the tightly closed back doors of the merchants' shops in Nibi no Utsu.
The rioting crowd surged like a flood towards the shops on the opposite side of the square.
The roars almost overturned the entire Nibi no Utsu.
At this moment, inside a shop opposite the central square, the owner, Takahashi, had tightly locked the door, trembling all over from the vibrations coming from the ground.
After locking the door, he searched for a hiding place within the two-story building. His gaze fixed on an overturned counter, and he swiftly climbed over it, squeezing his corpulent body behind the counter. His obese body was curled up, like a piece of pork cut open on a chopping board, sickeningly greasy.
Takahashi's breathing was rapid, and his heart pounded wildly. He occasionally peeked his head out to glance at the door.
"These commoners have gone mad."
"They actually dare..."
Takahashi's words were cut short.
His pupils instantly widened in terror. His door... his door had been broken open. With a loud bang, the door slammed violently against the wall.
Countless people squeezed into the shop. Innumerable hands reached out from behind Takahashi.
"Ahhhhh!"
Takahashi's terrified screams were drowned out by the enraged roars of the refugees.
The refugees rushed forward, almost without thinking, their eyes red. As their hands touched Takahashi's greasy flesh, a surge of wild power immediately coursed through their bodies.
It was impossible to tell whose hands had forcibly dragged Takahashi out from behind the overturned counter.
Takahashi let out a pig-like squeal, flailing his limbs wildly, but he was suppressed by the flood-like refugees.
Rope?
As soon as this thought arose in the refugees' minds, someone had already found hemp ropes from somewhere.
Countless hands passed the thick hemp ropes, used for bundling goods, to the dozen or so people closest to Takahashi. They held Takahashi down tightly.
The ropes bit into Takahashi's corpulent flesh, tied so tightly with dead knots, as if to break his bones.
Death?
That would be too easy for them.
The despair that the refugees had once experienced, they should all experience it too.
Takahashi screamed in pain.
Such a situation was happening in other places as well, not just Takahashi's shop.
More and more shops were broken into by refugees, who dragged out the hiding merchants from their rooms.
More merchants were dragged to the center of the street. One after another, they were tightly bound and thrown onto the cold ground.
The former "bosses" now lay like pigs and sheep awaiting slaughter.
The square had become a judgment ground.
Throughout Nibi no Utsu, almost all the wicked merchants were dragged out by the refugees they had once bullied.
The ninja and samurai, to prevent the refugees from getting too emotional and beating the merchants to death, would hand them thick hemp ropes at critical moments.
Merchants who had packed their bags and prepared to flee were also quickly tied up and brought back.
Those ordinary citizens who had not bullied the refugees escaped, they dared not make a sound, keeping their doors tightly shut, and opening a small crack in their second-story windows, from which they secretly watched the scene outside.
Suzuki of the Full Moon Steamed Bun shop stood at the end of the street, watching the chaos in the square, a flicker of worry in her eyes.
In the square, an old woman, so old she was just skin and bones, pounced on a short, fat merchant, her claw-like hands gripping his lapels, her voice sounding as if it had split open. "Where is my son! Where did you sell him? He's only fifteen! You tell me! Speak! Where is he? You beast!"
Such scenes played out in various parts of the square.